


Band of Brothers

by romanticalgirl



Category: Brothers & Sisters
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-19
Updated: 2013-04-19
Packaged: 2017-12-08 22:11:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/766605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We chosen few</p>
            </blockquote>





	Band of Brothers

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [](http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/)**inlovewithnight** for the beta
> 
> Originally posted 7-30-07

Kevin watched with a mixture of horror and amusement as his father strapped the last of the equipment on the top of the station wagon. William didn’t look up at him, but Kevin knew that he knew Kevin was there, that he was viewing everything with a typically critical eye.

“Camping, Dad? Really?”

“It’s bonding.”

“I knew Mom shouldn’t have let you read that _Iron John_ book.” Kevin shook his head and wrinkled his nose, glancing back at the house as Saul carried out the cooler. “That’s a lot of stuff for you and Uncle Saul.”

“We’re not the only ones going.”

“Oh? Are you taking Mr. Eva…oh, no.” He looked at Saul for confirmation, shaking his head violently. “No. No, Dad. Come _on_.”

William smiled and tightened the last strap, tossing the keys to Kevin. “I’ll let you drive.”

“If you let me drive, I’m taking us to Disneyland or something reasonably fun and less likely to result in the death of one or more family members.”

“There won’t be death. We’re not taking a single sister.”

“You think they’re the _deadly_ ones?” Kevin tossed the keys back to his father. “They’re just the dangerous ones. Tommy’s reckless and Justin has a death wish or no common sense, I’m not sure which, and there is no way in this world that I am going.”

**

“Too much air back there, Kevin?”

“It’s fine, Dad.” Kevin glared at his father in the rear-view mirror, and crossed his arms over his chest, studiously avoiding the smirks of his brothers on either side.

“What about the music? Too loud?”

“It’s _fine_ , Dad.”

Justin leaned over, barely able to hide his amusement. “What did you _do_ , Kevin? I mean, Dad’s just _gloating_.”

“Shut up, Justin.” Kevin undid his seatbelt and climbed over the back of the seat, nearly kicking Tommy in the face as he tumbled into the very back of the wagon. He closed his eyes as he stretched out as best he could, just listening to the hum of the road just a few feet below his head.

Justin turned slightly, angling his arm over the back of the seat and looking down at Kevin. “No, seriously. What happened?”

“We got into a debate. I lost.”

“You lost?” Tommy spoke for the first time, tugging off his headphones enough that the rest of the car got a healthy dose of John Cougar and his ditty about Jack and Diane. “Really?”

“Kevin let me pick the topic,” William practically sang out from the front seat, grinning at Saul. “Didn’t you, Kevin?”

“One _word_ ,” Kevin hissed at both of his brothers. “One word and I will gut you with Dad’s fish knife tonight.”

“What was it again, Kevin?” William overrode Kevin’s low threats. “I know you told me to pick anything, but what was it I chose?”

Sighing, Kevin sat up slightly and raised his voice. “The decline of true sportsmanship in baseball with the advent of free agency and salary caps and how it has affected the nature of the sports fan and team loyalty.” He kicked the back of Tommy’s seat hard as Tommy nearly choked on a laugh, then slumped back down. “At least I would have known _something_ about football.”

“Yeah,” Justin smirked. “Which position has the tightest pants.”

“And which team you _vote_ for,” Tommy added.

“I hate you both. What happened to brotherly loyalty?”

“Sorry, Kev.” Tommy grinned at him over the back seat. “We Walkers like winners.”

”Yeah? They why do you guys always vote for the Red Sox?”

“ROOT!” The car echoed with the word and then the required laughter. Kevin flipped Tommy off then closed his eyes again.

“Never let Dad pick the topic,” Justin reminded him softly.

“I expected him to play fair.”

“Really?” Justin asked, his voice still low. “Why?”

**

No one had ever officially declared a race at any Walker family event, but it was status quo nonetheless. The winners were only acknowledged through the glares of the losers, and the losers were only sore if William was on the losing team. That didn’t stop Kevin from giving Saul a look and a smile. He and Saul were a good team, inevitably paired together on these events, given that William had no idea how to relate to Kevin.

Logic and method against bravado and machismo, and they beat William and Tommy while Justin laid the fire, tossing out insults and encouragement, often in the same breath. Kevin tossed his sleeping bag in the tent and then moved over to sit across from Justin, settling on a log and staring into the fire. Justin was halfway through his second beer, bottle held loosely in his fingers. Past the first, he didn’t bother to try and hide it from William, not that it mattered either way. Between hunting, fishing and camping trips, Justin had been drinking since the summer before when he turned eight. Nora always protested the trips and the drinking, but William insisted that it was the only way Justin was going to grow up a man.

Kevin always ignored those conversations, used to his father’s digs. He’d never been the son his dad wanted – didn’t play sports, didn’t drink beer, didn’t sneak his dad’s porn magazines. He came on these trips unwillingly, usually tricked and trapped by his own arrogance, his father’s cunning and the fact that, if he had to admit it, he’d rather be here than alone. Tommy, Justin and Saul usually did their best to keep William from getting too drunk and harping on Kevin too much and eventually someone would catch a fish, shoot a deer, or nearly fall into the fire, or else the weekend would end, and they’d all go back to their lives, pretending most of what happened never had.

Tommy tossed the football to William, harder than he normally would given the ambient light and the fact that if William didn’t catch the ball, things would get even worse than the stony silence that had settled as soon as Kevin and Saul’s tent went up. Kevin sighed and fished a rock off the ground, tossing it at Justin. “Gimme a beer.”

“Get your own damn beer,” Justin sneered at Kevin, even as he started reaching in the cooler. There was another one in the truck, Kevin knew, filled with more beer and some food, enough to tide them over until the great fisherman returned triumphant. Saul would quote from the Bible, though Kevin always gave him a hard time about quoting the New Testament. Saul would always smile and shrug and remind Kevin that just because he didn’t believe Jesus was the Son of God didn’t mean the guy didn’t have a decent idea or two.

“I don’t think it was actually Jesus that said that, you know.”

Saul looked up from where he was whittling sticks to sharp points – Kevin and Tommy used to pretend they were light sabers until Tommy stabbed Kevin in the thigh one time, and the camping trip ended with Nora screaming, Kevin in the ER and Tommy as white as a sheet – and set his knife aside. “Pardon?”

“The thing. About fishing.” Kevin flushed, realizing he’d been talking when he was supposed to be thinking. “The give a man a fish thing.”

“No,” Saul agreed. “It’s a Chinese proverb, I think. But still, the Bible is keen on fishing.”

Kevin laughed. “Yeah. I guess it is.”

“Fishers of men,” William threw in as he tossed the football back to Tommy. “Which, hopefully, if Justin can keep from getting his hook tangled in is brother’s shirt this year, we won’t be.”

“Dude.” Justin shook his head. “It wasn’t my fault Kevin stood up. Who the hell stands up in a boat?”

“It was _Tommy_ ,” Kevin reminded him sharply. “And he stood up because you spilled an ice cold soda in his lap.”

“It was a beer,” Tommy interjected. “It was a beer and I smelled like beer all day and all night and when we got home, _I_ got grounded.”

“Your mother is always nervous about high spirits,” Saul reminded them.

“They were in Tommy’s lap, Uncle Saul,” Kevin laughed. “Nothing very high there.”

Tommy threw the football hard at Kevin, who ducked in response, unnecessarily as it turned out as William dove for it, catching the ball and skidding to a stop a few inches in front of the fire, stirring up a huge cloud of dust and smoke. William looked at Kevin and winked, tossing him the ball as he stood. “Careful, Tommy. Your aim’s a little to the right.”

**

Kevin woke up early the next morning, glancing over to see Saul’s sleeping bag already empty. Saul was always the first one up, informing anyone who would listen that he was the only one likely to make something edible or at least non-toxic, but Kevin knew it was really that he liked to have the time alone to say his prayers.

“You ever feel different, Uncle Saul?”

“Hmm?” Saul didn’t look up from where he was stirring the eggs in the cast-iron pan. “Different from all the other people cooking breakfast? Or from all the millions of other people in the world? Or all the other Jews?”

“From the rest of us.”

“Ah.” Saul nodded and stirred the eggs some more. “You mean since your mother has, other than the guilt and meddling, raised you all in your father’s religion?”

“No. Just…” He bit his lip and sighed. “You’re family, right? But you’re also separate. I mean, you have a house and a life and all these things that aren’t anything to do with us.”

“My job is at your family company, Kevin, and my life pretty much revolves around my job.”

“So you’re saying it’s not so different.”

“Of course it is.” It was Saul’s turn to sigh. He let the eggs sit for a moment, pouring two cups of coffee. “Everyone’s different, Kevin. Everyone feels different.”

“You’re…” Kevin shook his head, taking the cup from Saul. “There are levels of different. You’re high on the scale of ‘not culpable for family disasters’, whereas I’m high on the scale of ‘impossible to relate to and having nothing in common’.”

“I’m sure if we asked Tommy or Justin, they’d say they feel the same way.”

“I’m sure if we asked Tommy he’d say you’d been listening to me too much, and if you asked Justin, he’d wonder where the beer was.”

Saul laughed and sipped his coffee as he turned his attention back to the eggs. “I think your father might need to re-evaluate his stance on Justin’s drinking, yes.” After a few minutes, he shook his head, casting a sidelong glance at Kevin. “You want to take care of the toast?”

“Sure.” Kevin could feel Saul’s eyes on him as he placed the bread in the metal contraption and lowered it over the fire.

“We’re all different, Kevin. If you want the honest truth, I feel more out of place right now at breakfast when I don’t make bacon for you carnivorous Walkers. The thing is, Kevin, it’s family. Even if you’re different, you’re the same. You’ve got a bond. Nothing breaks that.”

“Nothing?” Kevin glanced up for an instant before he turned his attention back to the bread, flipping the toaster over. “Not even if you’re…really different?”

“Really different.” Saul paused, setting the eggs aside. “I don’t know what that is in the context of family, Kevin. You are who you are, and they love you. Unconditionally.”

“That’s not always true.”

“Certain things are _always_ true for the Walkers, Kevin.” He glanced over to the other tent where William was crawling out, scratching at a night’s growth of beard and heading for coffee, smiling at Kevin and Saul. “Unconditional is one of them.”

Kevin fished the toasted bread out and laid it on the platter Saul had scooped the eggs onto. Tommy and Justin lumbered out of their tents like ravenous bears woken from hibernation, shoving Kevin aside to get to the food. Saul just sipped his coffee, watching carefully as Kevin sighed, moving off a little ways.

William came up behind Kevin, draping his arm around Kevin’s shoulders as he sipped his own coffee, staring at Tommy and Justin as they fought a war with the serving spoons. “I bet if we pay Saul twenty bucks he’ll make us fresh eggs. _And_ bacon.”

“I don’t have twenty bucks, Dad.”

“Don’t worry, Kevin.” William leaned in, kissing the top of Kevin’s head before ruffling his thick curls. “I got it covered.”  



End file.
